


Remus Lupin and the Furry Little Problem

by riddlemethis_21



Series: Remus Lupin and the Seven-Headed Monster [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Coming of Age, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First in a Seven-Part Series, Gen, How Do I Tag, LGBTQ in later years, Unsure of How to Tag This, because of what Rowling said about Dumbledore and the werewolf metaphor, just Remus and Dumbledore, like when they're actually teenagers, more when I think of them, not everyone though
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-13
Updated: 2018-09-12
Packaged: 2019-05-21 19:45:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14921705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/riddlemethis_21/pseuds/riddlemethis_21
Summary: Against even his own father's precedence, Remus Lupin is allowed to enroll in Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. That is, as long as no one finds out about Remus's dirty little secret. Starts with Year One, but will become a seven-part series on the Marauders and their time at Hogwarts.Chapter 5 Summary: Remus helps Pettigrew get back at Potter and Black, and the full moon finally arrives.





	1. The Letter Arrives

Remus Lupin sat at his kitchen table, staring at his hands. Well, he didn’t stare _at_ his hands so much as he stared through them at the tablecloth underneath. Perhaps if he focused more on anything else, the voices in the living room would fade into the background.  


The cloth’s color had faded significantly since its first handmade stitch in the 1930s. Now the color resembled more of old coffee stains than the original canary yellow. Remus found it a bit gaudy, if he were being truly honest. The edges frayed over the years and some of the flowers had “scars” from where the cotton had ripped and was re-stitched. His eyes traced all the tears, light stains, patches, and frays in the fabric. It was a gift to his mum from her mum years ago. It certainly showed its age. Dwelling on the cloth’s flaws made Remus uncomfortable and he looked for something else to focus on.  


Despite his efforts to ignore the voices in the living room, however, Remus couldn’t help listening to the conversation that drifted into the kitchen. He could see his parents in his mind, sitting close together on the neat white sofa, holding each other’s hands in their laps as they always did. His mother wearing her standard pastel dress and his father with his thin-lipped expression under a traditional, pencil moustache—meticulously groomed, of course. His father’s pipe would be sitting on the table. It couldn’t be in his hand, as the conversation never broke for his father to take a few puffs, but Remus could smell the tobacco burning.  


“I know what Dumbledore said, Hope, but we have to think about what’s best for our son. What if something goes wrong? What if everyone finds out what we’ve worked so hard to hide?”  


Remus’s breath hitched. He tried so hard to be a good kid for his parents. The thing about that, though, was that being a good kid wasn’t a cure for lycanthropy. Remus didn’t know his nails were scratching at the table until he heard the tiniest ripping sound. He looked down and saw a small hole in the already deteriorating tablecloth.  


Damn.  


In the other room, Remus’s father continued, unaware of his son’s internal crisis.  


“He’s a…he’s a werewolf, Hope. It’s not exactly something people can easily forgive. And if he—Merlin forbid—bites a fellow classmate—”  


“Lyall, calm down before our son hears you. Dumbledore should know what he’s doing, right?” The sofa’s suede material disturbed itself beneath Hope’s dress. Remus’s mind’s eye could see her shifting slightly to prevent her legs from falling asleep. Her limbs were sensitive to things like that. “We may not understand it, but we need to trust that he’ll keep Remus’s secret safe. Perhaps school can still be a good thing for him. We have to believe that, dear. We…” Remus heard a soft sigh from his mother. “We just have to.”  


“We worked so hard, Hope. The thought that it could…”  


“I know.”  


“We worked…so hard.”  


“I know. But Remus is a smart boy. He understands what we expect.”  


The boy knew they worried about things happening while they couldn’t be there to protect him. It wasn’t the first conversation they whispered about him behind locked doors or when they thought Remus’s sensitive ears couldn’t pick up their hushed words. And it wouldn’t be the last one, either. It still cut him when they got this way, though. When his condition caused them to get this way.  


_June 1970  
_

_Remus sat some ways away from the kitchen table, nearer to the back door of the house. The clock above his head ticked away the time loudly and he tried to pay more attention to that for now. He needed to allow the adults their own space as they discussed whether or not he should go to Hogwarts. He smelled the warm deliciousness of biscuits in the oven, and he wondered if his mother made them for Dumbledore. The man had a rumored affinity for sweets, after all, and the aroma from the oven smelled of more sugar than usual.  
_

_“I think Remus will be a fine fit for the school next year,” Albus Dumbledore stated jovially.  
_

_He was the headmaster of the school. He also reminded Remus somewhat of the muggle interpretation of Santa Claus. At least, if Mr Claus were thin, with a violet wizard’s hat and a broken nose. The boy did find the headmaster a bit strange, though, as the first thing he’d asked Remus’s parents when entering the Lupin house was if they had had lemon drops or Bertie Bott’s beans.  
_

_When no response came to his current assessment, Dumbledore looked at the two oldest Lupins. “You don’t agree?”  
_

_“We’re just worried,” Lyall admitted. “About his…condition.”  
_

_Dumbledore waved a hand, dismissing the thought. “He’ll be perfectly safe at Hogwarts.”  
_

_Remus almost glanced at the old man to see if he were serious. He couldn’t believe someone could take the idea of a werewolf attending school with other eleven-year-olds as lightly as this man did. His parents certainly didn’t.  
_

_“Yes, but how can we be sure?” Hope interjected. “Sir,” she added with a small amount of shame. She never liked appearing rude to guests.  
_

_“After all, it only happens a few nights a month and he’ll be kept away from the other students during those hours, in the Forest.” Dumbledore continued as casually as if she’d simply asked the time.  
_

_“Surely you can’t mean sending him into the Forbidden Forest? Alone?” Lyall asked, an anger behind the question. It was quiet, as if the man forced himself to stay calmer than he wanted to be.  
_

_The older man blinked. “Why not? The reason the Forest is forbidden to students is because they don’t know how to properly deal with the creatures within and it’s easier to get lost among the trees than you might think. They like to move around just as much as the staircases sometimes.”  
_

_Remus could hear the twinkle in the man’s eyes, could hear the smile in his voice. As if only Dumbledore got the joke. Remus himself couldn’t find the humor. The thought sounded terrifying to him.  
_

_“The creatures won’t come after a transformed werewolf, though, and Remus won’t attack them either. Werewolves attack humans, you see,” Dumbledore said.  
_

_His parents remained quiet, so Dumbledore went on.  
_

_“Also, learning magic is good for a boy his age. Lycanthropy can tend toward insanity of the host. Magic could help keep his mind off his transformations during the off times, creating a cushion of sorts. A reprieve he could count on to stay stable. It’s only a guess, you understand, but I’d say it’s a pretty good one. However, I would like to know what the young Mr Lupin thinks about it all.”  
_

_Remus looked away from the clock in surprise, wondering why Dumbledore brought him into the conversation. His parents tended to do the opposite in discussions; they tried to keep him as inconspicuous as possible. All three adults stared at him now. His father looked worried, his mother shook her head slightly, and Dumbledore smiled.  
_

_Remus looked down at his hand in his lap, picking at his nails. Hope hated when he picked at them. In his mind, he could practically smell her mint toothpaste as she leaned over him to pull his hands apart. She wouldn’t do that right now, though, because company was over. And Remus needed something more, because the clock wasn’t enough for this. It took a few moments to summon the courage to speak. He knew it would make his parents upset, but he couldn’t help how he felt. And somehow, he knew this man could tell a liar.  
_

_“I…I want to go to school,” he said it so quietly, he wasn’t sure for a second if they’d even heard him and if he needed to repeat it. He glanced up to be sure of the answer. When he caught the older wizard’s gaze, Remus found he couldn’t look away.  
_

_Dumbledore put the tips of his fingers together, peering at Remus over the top of his glasses. “I want to impress upon you the importance of not letting anyone know of your condition. It could put you and those schoolmates who know in grave danger.”  
_

_Remus knew the importance. Of course he did. How could he not? But still Dumbledore spoke.  
_

_“You don’t need to isolate yourself, Mr Lupin, please know that. Just don’t let them know there’s anything different about you. Do you understand?” He looked at the boy so intensely, Remus couldn’t help flushing as he nodded furiously. He felt like a small child under the other’s gaze.  
_

_“I understand, Professor.”  
_

_The headmaster looked at the other two Lupins. “You see? Nothing to worry about.” When he turned his attention back to Remus, he smiled broadly. Remus tentatively returned the smile.  
_

_“I look forward to seeing you in school next year, Mr Lupin.”_  


August 1971  


Remus continued eavesdropping on his parents.  


“I…I know it’s wrong to want this, Hope, but I think it’d be better if the letter never comes.” Hurriedly, his father’s voice continued, “Of course, if it does come we’ll deal with what the letter says. Of course, we will. I just mean….” There was a sigh. “I don’t know what I mean, actually.”  


“I understand. If it doesn’t come, then he won’t have to go to school where he’d be judged on the prejudices people have.” Silence after that—even with the suede material—and then, “Sorry, dear.”  


Almost on cue, the aforementioned letter shot through the mail slot, down the hall from the kitchen and adjacent to the living room. As if poking fun at its own dramatic entrance, the envelope fluttered to the mat on the floor, coming to rest just outside the archway leading into the living room. Remus knew all three sets of Lupin eyes watched its soft descent with worry. He knew his parents worried about his going away, and he did as well, but he still wanted to learn how to control his magic. He shuddered to think of what could happen if he never did. He looked back to the tablecloth.  


The boy sensed more than heard or saw his father coming up beside him. Lyall solemnly handed Remus the envelope. His father’s eyes shone with sadness and Remus knew why. When he was younger, his father had raved about Hogwarts.  


_“Best place in the world for a boy to be.”  
_

_“You’ll meet lifelong friends there.”  
_

But Lyall had stopped when they all realized Remus’s lycanthropy couldn’t be cured as the three had hoped. Remus would never forgive himself for the stress he’d caused his father over the years. He’d never state that out loud, either.  


Remus opened the letter.  


He expected Dumbledore to have changed his mind. He expected the words, _“It is with very real regret that I must inform you that we will not be able to offer you a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry this fall….”  
_

Instead, his eyes opened wide as he read the words, _“We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry…”  
_

Remus’s heart jumped to his throat. He was quite glad he was seated as his knees went weak enough to have buckled beneath him otherwise. In his peripheral vision, Remus was aware of his mother standing in the kitchen doorway, watching her two boys with guarded eyes. He was just as aware of his father reading the letter over his shoulder and the fact that the latter’s fingers had that same shoulder in a vice grip. All of them fretted about Remus and his filthy secret, even with Dumbledore’s reassurances. The man’s warning rang through Remus’s ears until he dropped the letter on the table to rub his temples.  


_“I need to impress upon you the importance…grave danger…just don’t let them know there’s anything different about you….”  
_

_Different.  
_

_Different.  
_

Different.  


Well, the headmaster certainly wouldn’t have to worry about that particular situation causing Remus’s condition to be known. The boy knew the truth, after all.  


He wouldn’t have friends. Not if he could help it.


	2. Diagon Alley

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm hoping to update this story every Wednesday, so hopefully this story has a regular schedule for you guys.
> 
> ~riddle

Remus couldn’t believe his eyes. Diagon Alley seemed to be alive with bustling crowds of Hogwarts parents and students alike. Kids getting ice cream and pushing and shoving and yelling with excitement that they finally got their chance to go to Hogwarts. Sweet smells also pushed their way down the street and into Remus’s nose. He looked every bit as forward to school as these other kids, albeit more tentatively.  


Of course, older students also littered the streets. The same older students who looked at the first years with either fond smiles or exasperation as they got the supplies they needed for their own classes. Remus felt he appeared closer to their age, being more reserved and a bit taller.  


He and his father walked past a shop with the latest broomstick models in the windows. He didn’t mind that first years weren’t allowed their own broomsticks yet. Not because he was scared of heights necessarily, but because of a particular memory involving his roof and a giant pile of leaves his father was only just able to conjure in time. The incident had since kept the boy reserved in terms of being in the air. Remus didn’t dwell too long on these thoughts as he considered the fact he was even going to school in the first place.  


Remus clutched his new books to his chest, squashing his small smile with the iron butterflies in his stomach. He had all of his books but two. Hope was going to give him his father’s used copy of _Magical Theory_ when they were on their way to the train station, while Lyall had told his son that he wouldn’t actually need _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_ , not really. And if Remus wanted to look up the creatures on his own outside of classes, the library did keep copies of the books in the curriculums for all seven years. Currently, Hope had broken off from them a while ago to get Remus’s brass scales, glass phials, and a telescope while he and his father got a cauldron.  


Lyall and Remus entered Potage’s Cauldron shop.  


It was a bit dimmer than the street, but Remus thanked Merlin for the reprieve from the bright sun outside. Remus’s eyes were sensitive to bright light because of his illness. His eyes adjusted to the lighting faster than his father’s and Remus’s breath hitched.  


He knew cauldrons could be made from materials other than pewter—namely gold or bronze, but to see them standing on the floor and shelves in all their glory certainly made quite a sight.  


His eyes fell on the small pewter cauldrons near the bottom shelves and a warmth bloomed in his chest. They had a humble yet stout look about them. Remus decided he liked these cauldrons the best, even before his father told him they were the cheapest in the store.  


“But durable,” Lyall added, as though the earlier statement would make Remus think the pewter was of poor quality. As if Remus could be steered away from their quiet pride. “Especially in this store. You buy one pewter cauldron and you’ve nearly got one for life. Hand your books to me and pick the one you like the best.”  


Remus carefully passed his books on to his father, and then took his time looking through the cauldrons. He didn’t want Lyall to think he didn’t take this opportunity seriously. His hands passed over every inch of each curve and handle, checking for any marks or blemishes.  


It seemed surreal, really. Here he was, inside a cauldron shop, picking out a cauldron. After already getting the books he needed, at that. To be honest, he still feared he would wake up in bed, without a letter. Without a chance at Hogwarts.  


Without a chance for his parents to see him as anything other than a werewolf.  


Coming out of his musings, he finally found a perfectly made cauldron. Smooth and dark grey. Picking it up, he was surprised to find it was so light-weight. Everything he wanted, then. He checked the price.  


“Dad, can I get this one? It’s only 15 galleons.”  


Lyall hummed, “Of course. You can take it to the counter if you want—unless you want me to take it myself.” The older man chuckled softly as Remus’s arms sprang to life, lifting the cauldron and holding to his chest like it held his very life.  


“I can take it myself. Thanks, Dad!”  


By the time he reached the counter, however, the nervous twinge returned. He carefully placed the cauldron on the counter. A brunette smiled warmly at Remus and he assumed she might be Potage. She was a large woman—tall, broad, and curvy. Despite her size, Remus felt somewhat comfortable around her, even though his awkward feeling hadn’t left. It was as though she had an infectious type of warmth.  


“This is your first year at Hogwarts, isn’t it?”  


Remus nodded with red cheeks. Maybe he wasn’t so different from the other first years after all.  


“I thought so. I have a great memory for faces.” Potage chuckled as a small girl came up beside her. “Oh, this is my little girl. Say hello, Rosie.” The girl hid behind her mother’s cloak, only peeking out slightly.  


“H-hello,” she whispered.  


Remus smiled in response and hoped the gesture hid the nervousness in his eyes. “Hello.”  


Potage looked at Rosie, patting her daughter on the back. “Alright now, Rosie, run along. I’m helping these fine men buy a cauldron.”  


The girl immediately turned and ran off into a back room. Remus got the sense she was grateful she didn’t need to be social any longer. He understood the feeling. Potage turned back to Lyall and Remus.  


“That’s my little girl,” she repeated, her voice loud and booming. “She’s only three right now, but just you wait. She’ll be attending Hogwarts soon enough.” As Lyall gave the shop owner 15 galleons, Potage nodded at Remus, grinning. “Congratulations on getting into Hogwarts. Not every child can, you know. You’re already ahead of some.” Her eyes softened as she read some emotion in Remus’s own eyes. “It’s okay to smile.”  


_You have no idea_ , Remus couldn’t help the grim thought.  


Lyall cast a shrinking charm on the cauldron so he could fit it into his pocket. Then he cleared his throat, giving a curt and half-hearted smile to the shop owner.  


“Thank you for your time. Come along, Remus.”  


Remus lifted his right hand in a limp wave. He exited the shop and saw his father had already found and met up with his mother across the alley. As he came up, Hope handed her son his new Astronomy supplies. Remus couldn’t help looking at his mother in confusion as she also handed him moon and star charts.  


“I decided to get you something extra that wasn’t on the list,” she explained gently. “As a congratulatory present from your father and me.”  


Remus looked over the star chart as if he were memorizing every detail of it. The iron butterflies in his stomach began to leave, and in fact, a soft smile graced his face. The thing he couldn’t hide, however—the thing that was painfully obvious to himself and his parents, was the great care Remus took in not even glancing at the moon chart. His eyes tried to occasionally, but Remus squashed down the desire to torture himself.  


“Remus, come on. We’ll go get your robes. Hand those things to me and let’s make them easier to carry.”  


It didn’t matter to Remus which of his parents spoke, he handed his things to Lyall to shrink and they moved on. Together, they all went into Madame Malkin’s robe shop.  


Malkin saw the eleven-year-old enter first. She was shorter than Potage, with a seeming obsession for any shade of mauve, but just as full of warm smiles. She immediately began fussing over him, fitting robes over his clothes, and bustling him around her shop. Once she satisfied herself with where Remus stood on the wooden stool, and she had enough measuring supplies in her hand, she set to work.  


“What’s your name?” she asked, carefully maneuvering her lips around the pins in her mouth.  


“Remus,” he supplied. That was easy enough. He didn’t like talking too much if he could help it. He didn’t want people to find out about his…problem.  


“Are you excited to be going to school this year, Remus?”  


He didn’t know how to respond. Malkin laughed, causing him to redden.  


“You’re a quiet boy, aren’t you?”  


He looked at his parents, rather than answer. This woman seemed determined to have a conversation to pass the time. It exhausted him sometimes, however, when he had to think of things to say to people he didn’t really know. He just wanted to be at school already, learning and reading about new things. But he didn’t want to be rude.  


“He is rather quiet.”  
Remus worried Malkin would swallow a few pins with how high she jumped at the sudden voice. But she managed to compose herself before she got injured.  


“You’re the mum, I presume,” she smiled as widely as she could around the pins. “You look just like him.” Hope smiled as well and Remus relaxed. Maybe the conversation wouldn’t be so bad after all. Malkin nudged him. “Stand up straight, or your robes will be too small.”  


He did as he was told.  


After the fitting, his parents and Malkin fretted over putting Remus’s measurements to black fabric. While they did this, Remus entertained himself with looking at other fabric colors. He looked at each with the same level of wonder as the last. That is, until he saw the most beautiful fabric he had ever seen.  


It appeared to be a shimmering black at first. However, upon further inspection, it was actually a deep blue with tiny moving stars on it to match the night sky. He didn’t realise he had started to reach for it until he felt a hand on his wrist. It was his mother.  


“Sorry, dear, but your father and I couldn’t afford that. Besides, you’ll like your robes black anyway. Wouldn’t want to draw a crowd, would we?” Her other hand came to rest comfortingly on his shoulder.  


Remus nodded and returned the small smile his mother gave him, all while hating his condition.  


His parents ended up buying three sets of plain work robes and a pair of chameleon gloves. Remus knew they hadn’t thought of his own transformations when buying them, but he couldn’t help having those thoughts himself. It was just in his nature now to never forget. Like the command had etched itself into his DNA.  


Hope would have purchased a pack of name tags for him, but Lyall managed to talk her out of it.  


“If anyone wants to ask his name, they will. Otherwise, it will bring unnecessary attention to him. I mean, how many students do you think will have name tags?” he had said. Hope had relented after that.  


They did buy Remus a winter cloak, though, with silver fastenings. Remus thought it was beautiful. After they were shrunk down, Hope carried all of the Malkin purchases in her purse.  


Outside of Ollivander’s wand shop, Hope and Lyall debated not-quietly-enough on letting him go inside alone. They eventually decided on accompanying their son.  


“Just in case, dear,” Hope assured him.  


Once inside, the iron butterflies came back with a vengeance and spun around in a flurry. This was it. This was when Remus would take the most important step in becoming a student wizard: receiving the extension of his arm.  


Ollivander came out from a back room, looking haggard and a bit like someone who had been awoken from a nap. His sharp eyes and thin frame reminded Remus of a particularly annoyed bird. Especially with his beak-like nose.  


“Hello? Who’s there?”  


Lyall answered, “Remus Lupin. He’s been accepted at Hogwarts.”  


The shop owner looked at the eleven-year-old boy. “Are you incapable of answering for yourself?”  


Remus silently shook his head.  


“Then you should.”  


“I—I’m Remus, sir.”  


Ollivander regarded him. “So I’ve been told. But it’s a start.” He smiled at Remus’s flush. “It could be a bit stronger, though,” he added fondly.  


Remus decided that he liked him.  


He was surprised by Ollivander’s sudden cry. “That one might work!” And the boy was even more surprised by the now quick movements the older male made.  


The shop owner disappeared into the narrow aisles that housed the wands of future British witches and wizards. He reappeared a moment later, holding a long, slender box in his hands. The older man handed the boy a smooth, pale brown wand.  


“10 ¾” cypress, with unicorn hair. Go ahead and give it a flick.”  


Remus took the wand in his hand and did as he was told. His father’s pockets and his mother’s purse that held his school supplies levitated for a few seconds before floating gently back to their sides. He looked up at Ollivander with delight. The feeling was soon replaced with anxiety, though, at the latter’s surprise. It took a moment for the wand maker’s eyebrows to settle back into their rightful place.  


“It’s been a while since I’d gotten it right the first time,” he said, more to himself than Remus. He sounded impressed with himself.  


The young werewolf had never grinned so largely in his life.  


Remus admired his wand as he and his parents made their way toward the store Magical Menagerie. He wasn’t sure what kind of animal he would get from the shop yet. Perhaps an owl. He didn’t think a toad would really suit him—especially if his parents wanted to keep in touch. And cats probably didn’t get along with Hogwarts students that just so happened to be werewolves. He couldn’t be sure, obviously. It wasn’t like he had a reference to go on.  


“Remus, watch out!” Lyall called.  


Remus looked up just in time to prevent himself from running into another shopper. He gave a sheepish smile and left his arm at his side after that. He still held his wand tightly in his hand, though. If Dumbledore changed his mind now, Remus knew he would fight for it until he forced the headmaster to pry the wood out of his dead hand.  


They all three started inside the Magical Menagerie—Remus first—and immediately the animals reacted. The toads hopped to the corners of their containers furthest from Remus, the owls tried flying away, and the cats tried attacking the boy from their cages.  


It was obvious to the Lupins that Remus was the one causing the scene. They quickly left before anyone could question why exactly the animals started throwing fits when Remus entered the shop. As they left, Remus could hear the animals beginning to calm down, the exception being the owls still fluttering nervously. He felt terrible. The butterflies returned again, but at least they were quieter, even if they burned his stomach this time. He held his wand in a death grip.  


“It’s alright, Remus,” his mother’s smile was a little too bright, “not every student has an animal for their first year of school. You won’t be alone.”  


“Right,” and Lyall’s comforting tone didn’t match his worried eyes, “the important thing is, you’ve got the supplies you need. And if you want to keep in touch, the school has general owls the students can use to send letters.”  


Remus just wanted to disappear in that moment. He would never be allowed to forget.  


~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~  


The last few days Remus spent with his parents could have been described as calm, or as close to the notion as the Lupins would get while finishing up school preparations.  


The three of them had spent as much time together as possible before Remus left for Hogwarts. His mother talked non-stop about the sights he would see at school (“I’m a Squib myself, I know, but I’ve been there. It’s beautiful.”) and how well she knew he would do at lessons. Remus always had a curious mind and a keen urge to learn. It also helped that his father went over the first chapters of every school book Remus had to make sure his son understood the concepts being discussed.  


All in all, it was a pleasant time spent with his parents, and the eleven-year-old knew he would miss them dearly while he was away.  


Now, he looked out of the car’s window, watching the buildings and people pass by in a blur. His parents decided since they knew how to drive, and since they wanted to keep a lower profile, they would drive Remus to the train station with their car instead of using the floo network. His mother and father made small talk in the front, but Remus couldn’t concentrate on what they said.  


He was going to school, something he hadn’t dreamed of since the night he was bitten. The thought was almost too much to comprehend. Remus allowed himself a soft smile. Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He would make his parents proud.  


Soon enough, the car stopped—they had arrived at King’s Cross.  


“Come on, Remus,” Hope sighed.  


They entered the building and as all three walked toward their destination, Lyall gave his son the remaining 16 galleons from the Diagon Alley trip.  


“You shouldn’t have to buy too much once you make it to the school, but remember to get lots of chocolates from the trolley. To help with your illness.”  


Remus nodded. Ever since he was six, he and his parents found that chocolate was the best way for the young werewolf to feel better after the painful nights before. They certainly were his favorite option.  


Remus launched himself at his father, who stiffened in surprise as his son’s arms wrapped around him in a hug.  


“Thanks, Dad,” he whispered into the lapels of Lyall’s best tweed jacket. The way Lyall’s body relaxed let Remus know he was smiling.  


“Anything to help you get through to Christmas.”  


Remus squeezed tighter.  


It was when they reached platforms 9 and 10 that Remus stopped. Around him, he heard others—muggles—still hurrying about the station toward their own platforms. They would be too busy to take much notice of him, he knew, but his senses still wanted him to be aware of them. Lyall was quick to pick up on his son’s hesitation.  


“You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, Remus. We can write to the headmaster and let him know you’ve changed your mind.”  


If Remus had seen the small light of hope in his father’s eyes, he might have felt bad for shaking his head. But he hadn’t seen it.  


“It’s not that. I just…walking at a brick wall is a little…”  


Hope chuckled, “You’re scared of how to get on the platform?”  


Remus blushed as he nodded.  


“Don’t worry, dearie, your father and I will be right behind you.” She placed her hands on either of Remus’s shoulders and gently steered him to be in front of the wall.  


“You won’t feel a thing,” Lyall added, “Just walk with purpose toward the wall and you’ll go straight through it.”  


Remus still felt a little nervous, but he nodded resolutely at his parents. He wasn’t going to act like a child now. He could do this.  


He gripped the handles of the trolley they’d gotten to handle all his school things and walked briskly toward the brick wall. He couldn’t help closing his eyes just as he reached the bricks, but he opened them again when he felt nothing. Did he miss it…? Glancing up, he saw the sign reading “Platform 9 ¾.” He felt his parents behind him and turned to face them, smiling brilliantly.  


Loads of other young witches and wizards filled the platform, bustling toward the Hogwarts Express and saying goodbyes to teary parents. The students bounced with excitement to get on the long red train.  


Just like him—  


He almost thought it. But the next bitter statement came so quickly to his mind, he was surprised it was his own. The voice in his head certainly sounded like someone else’s.  


_Except they’re not like you at all. They’re normal._  


It took Remus another moment to realise Lyall and Hope were in the middle of explaining something to him.  


“This is for Headmaster Dumbledore,” Lyall said as he handed Remus a small brown package. It was wrapped with care and was small enough to fit in one hand.  


“It’s a ‘thank you’ gift,” Hope added. “For…you know. Give it to him directly. Don’t let anyone else take it for you. Hand it to him—directly, Remus, do you understand?—in his office, with no one else present. We don’t want to make a spectacle of it.”  


Remus nodded. “I understand.” Lyall and Hope looked at their son with twin expressions of concern. They both hugged him tightly.  


“Come home on the holidays. Be careful about making friends,” Lyall spoke into his son’s hair.  


Remus knew the implication was to not make any.  


He nodded again, “Of course.”  


He had already made that plan for himself when Professor Dumbledore first offered for him to go to school. The last thing he needed was for something as trivial as a social life to get in the way of learning. Especially when they would abandon him as soon as they figured out what he was anyway. So what was the point in the effort? Lyall and Hope let go of him and the three shared a brief, bittersweet smile before Remus placed the package on top of the other things on his trolley.  


He boarded the Hogwarts Express and quickly found a compartment on the side of the train where he could see his parents, and closed the compartment door. He was happy to find the compartments weren’t cramped like he had worried they would be. Sure enough, when he looked out, Lyall and Hope stood nearby his compartment window. The train whistled and slowly began to leave the station. Remus waved goodbye until the steam obscured them and he couldn’t see them anymore.  


Before he could truly settle into the seat, however, two students entered the compartment. A boy and a girl. The boy had longish black hair that looked as if it could use a good washing and a nose with a slight hook at the end. The girl had shoulder-length red hair and green eyes and confidence enough for the three of them. They weren’t standing close enough for Remus to assume they were related, but the relaxed atmosphere between the two of them told the werewolf that they knew each other before stepping foot on the train. Friends, then.  


Remus wondered briefly what it was like to share something like that with another person your age.  


The girl smiled grandly. “Can we sit here?”  


Remus grimaced before he could stop himself. “I’d…honestly prefer if you didn’t. Sorry. I…I don’t feel very well.” He didn’t miss the suspicious, calculating look the other boy fixed him with, and for a terrifying moment, he worried he’d already been found out before he could even step foot inside the school. The girl smiled again, but softer this time.  


“Of course, we’re sorry we barged in. Get some rest and feel better before we arrive, though. It’d be terrible to get to school and be sick.”  


Remus returned the smile weakly as she and her friend left. Suddenly, the events of the past month caught up with him and he was exhausted. He lay down on the seat, hoping no one else would bother him before the train ride ended.


	3. Remus Meets His Dormmates

The train stopping jerked Remus awake.  


Not wanting to fall back asleep and end up waking when the train got back to London, he forced himself to get up. He stretched and rolled his head on his neck in an attempt to wake up more. It didn’t work nearly well enough, but he stumbled out of the compartment anyway to join the students milling into the train aisle.  


Remus dazedly followed his new classmates off the Hogwarts Express and even the wonder of finally being a student here couldn’t get him to focus enough to take in the scenery for the first time. Truth be told, Remus was so out of it, he didn’t fully comprehend anything until he processed the absence of sound. Looking around, Remus realized he was in the Great Hall, about to be sorted.  


Dumbledore sat back down, beaming at the new students.  


Remus felt highly embarrassed that he didn’t hear the headmaster’s welcome because he couldn’t be bothered to wake up. He knew he missed an important first memory, and he decided to pay more attention from now on.  


A witch who looked to be around her mid-to-late thirties stood and made her way toward the waiting students. She brought with her a small, three-legged stool and an old wizard’s hat. It looked like it had seen better days. The witch had black hair pulled into a tight bun under her witch’s hat, and green eyes that seemed to know every secret you could possibly try keeping from her. She already intimidated Remus.  


“Good evening, students,” and even her tone was stern. “I am Professor McGonagall. Now, when I call your name, you may come forward to be sorted.”  


She called the first name.  


Remus looked at the other first years in the crowd to see how long it might take before he heard his name called. A few had name tags attached to their robes, but the vast majority had opted out. Remus silently thanked his father for thinking ahead.  


Even through his anxieties and doubts, Remus couldn’t wait for his part particularly. He didn’t know which house he would be sorted into, but he knew whichever house it was, it couldn’t be Slytherin. His parents wouldn’t hate or disown him, to be fair. They didn’t really believe the prejudices. The students placed in Slytherin were haughty for sure, and the house didn’t take on any muggleborns Remus could remember hearing about, but that was the biggest claim to “evil” Slytherin had. And he couldn’t believe the stories just based on that. But being the first Lupin in a long time to be put in Slytherin would bring too much attention.  


McGonagall called several other names before anything drew his attention.  


“Black, Narcissa.”  


Everything about the girl who went up to the stool screamed wealth. She wore new clothes and robes and her blonde hair fell around her shoulders and framed her face nicely. A smirk grew across her face as the hat was placed on her head.  


The hat called out an immediate, “SLYTHERIN,” and Remus wasn’t surprised. After all, most pureblood families usually fall into that house—Weasleys excluded, of course. Especially the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black.  


Remus heard a snort of what sounded like disgust somewhere in front of him and to the right as the girl made her way to the Slytherin table. He bit his lip quickly so he wouldn’t laugh in shock. The resulting smirk almost broke his face, though.  


“Black, Sirius.”  


The same disgusted student plopped down on the stool as if he owned the entire school and everyone in it. And, technically, his family’s wealth and influence meant he kind of did. The only real rival to that power would be the Malfoys, and the two families got on rather well with each other.  


The boy had wavy black hair cut short and combed nicely, with grey eyes that seemed friendly enough. Remus decided the boy was handsome.  


The hat didn’t take long to shout, “GRYFFINDOR!”  


That did surprise Remus. No one from the Black family had ever been sorted into another house at all, let alone Slytherin’s house rival. Besides descendants of Slytherin himself, the Blacks were said to be one of the oldest families in the house of emerald and silver.  


The black-haired boy smirked and sauntered over to the Gryffindor table, pausing briefly to squeeze the shoulder of a boy with glasses.  


More names were called before Remus recognized one of the students.  


“Evans.”  


The redheaded girl from the train sat down.  


The hat shouted, “GRYFFINDOR!”  


Remus didn’t know why the girl looked so apologetic at that. After a second, he frowned. He realized the boy from the train with her probably wanted to claim allegiance to different house while not being separated from his friend. Remus secretly hoped the two wouldn’t be. That would be cruel.  


More names were called.  


“Lupin.”  


Remus wasn’t paying attention just enough so that when he heard his name, he gave a small squeak of surprise. He carefully composed himself as much as possible without taking too much time. He approached the raven-haired professor and the closer he came, the more intimidating she seemed to become. He sat on the stool and his stomach dropped as he looked out across the sea of students. Because of this, he nearly jumped when her hand landed on his shoulder.  


“Don’t look so green, Mr Lupin. You’ll be fine, whichever house you’re sorted into,” McGonagall whispered into his ear. She placed the hat onto his head before he could respond.  


_You’re a strange one, aren’t you?_  


The voice startled Remus and it took some time to figure out it wasn’t still Professor McGonagall speaking to him. The voice seemed to be in his ears and in his head at the same time.  


_I beg your pardon, sir?_ he thought. He knew of magical objects that spoke to people: paintings, photographs on occasion, but he’d never held a conversation with a hat before. Just never met the right hat, he supposed.  


The hat chuckled. _Yes, you certainly are strange. A desire to be in Hufflepuff, a quick wit and intelligence, an undeniable loyalty to those you care about, and a strong need to prove yourself. The last, however, you keep secret from others._  


_Sir, with all due respect, I don’t—  
_

_But that’s not the only secret in your mind, is it, boy...?_  


Remus’s throat constricted, and he couldn’t swallow. This was it. The adventure was over. Might as well have stayed his arse on the train.  


_Don’t worry, boy, it’s not my business to know why the headmaster makes the choice he or she are bound to make. I only help the sorting process go along much easier. It’s in the name, you know. Bear in mind, boy, I don’t give the wearer what they want. Only what they’ll need later on in life. Good luck, wolf cub._  


“GRYFFINDOR!” the hat shouted. Amidst the applause from Gryffindor house, Remus could hear the hat’s laughter ringing in his head. Or maybe it was his imagination.  


Personally, Remus hadn’t been more relieved in his life. He still felt a small twinge of disappointment, though. Lyall had been in Hufflepuff during his school years. But his son made his way to the Gryffindor table anyway.  


Remus let a lot of the other names fade into the background after that. Though, he did vaguely hear something about one of the students causing a Hat Stall. He forced himself to pay attention again when he heard the name of a familiar face.  


“Snape.”  


The boy with black hair from the train sat down. The hat took a few moments before calling, “SLYTHERIN!” At the same time, a frown crossed the hat’s seams.  


Remus clapped politely even as he winced in sympathy for the two friends. They must not have been separated before. Not by two houses shrouded in hatred, at least. Then again, that didn’t mean they had to stop associating with one another, right? He certainly hoped it worked out for them.  


Eventually, finally, the sorting was over. Remus smiled fondly at sounds of muggleborns seeing food appear on the centerplates in front of them for the first time. The feeling didn’t last long as his stomach growled. He piled food on his own plate and grabbed a knife and fork to cut his slice of pork loin into edible pieces.  


Around him, students struck up conversations with each other. Some tried to do the same with Remus but he acted as though he couldn’t hear them. Eventually they shrugged and gave up, making small talk with other people. Remus frowned down at his plate.  


Everything would be fine. Loneliness was something he was used to. And really, why should school be different?  


After the welcoming feast was over, the first years lined up in two rows behind the houses’ two Prefects. As they all walked to their respective dorms, Remus took in a bit more of the school’s structure. The corridors were long and much wider than he would’ve imagined for the time period the castle was built. He chalked it up to spells allowing students more space. Vaulted ceilings arched above and echoed with students’ chatter and laughter. With the crowd, Remus struggled a bit with not losing the female Prefect leading him to Gryffindor tower.  


She was a tall and slender girl—probably taller than most her age. It certainly helped with keeping her in sight. She had black curly hair styled in an afro. When they had first gathered around her, her brown eyes swept over the crowd of first years, seemingly daring any of them to wander off on her. Remus surprised himself by finding the expression comforting rather than intimidating. She would get them where they needed to go.  


The Prefect stopped right before getting on a staircase, turning to face the younger students. “These staircases like to move around sometimes.”  


Remus nodded, remembering Dumbledore’s words the year before.  


“Step quickly onto the staircase with me, if you please.” She didn’t continue until this was done. Thankfully, the staircase didn’t move and they all walked on. “If you’re on the staircases and they move, don’t freak out. Just continue on and soon enough you’ll get to where you need to go. If you have any problems with finding where you need to go, come find me and I’ll escort you. Likewise, if you have problems with classes or homework and you feel like a trip to the library won’t solve it, come find me.”  


In the tone, Remus didn’t find a lot of patience for those who would potentially take advantage of her as a resource.  


“Any questions?”  


“What’s your name, again?” a small voice within the crowd asked. The girl had bushy eyebrows and a small, pushed-up nose.  


The Prefect sighed, “My name, once again, is Amanda Friedman. Please don’t forget. I find it tedious to repeat myself.”  


As they arrived at their destination, Remus was only slightly surprised to find a large portrait of a large lady. He vaguely remembered his father talking about portraits and passwords before he’d stopped talking about Hogwarts altogether.  


“Password?” the lady asked.  


“ _Semper idem_ ,” the Prefect—Friedman, Remus made sure to remember—spoke slowly and clearly to the lady’s portrait. The lady nodded and swung forward, revealing the entryway to the dorms. Remus followed the crowd of first years, crawling through to the other side.  


Red and gold colors flooded the Gryffindor common room. Remus’s eyes sparkled as they scanned sofas of crimson leather. The leather was lined across the arms and bottom by upholstery tacks with an old gold finish. The large window to Remus’s right showed the night sky. The warm fire roaring in the fireplace to his left, however, kept the common room lit in a soft orange light. Red rugs covered the floor, giving everything a cozy feel. An enormous candelabra chandelier hung from the ceiling, beautiful and golden. Remus could stay and admire the aesthetics all night, but he needed to follow Friedman.  


Walking up the stairs and toward his dorm, Remus resolved to check out his new room after getting more rest. He didn’t want to upset Friedman.  


He edged past Friedman, who stopped at the doorframe. He turned to thank her for her help with finding Gryffindor tower and realized they were the only two in the room. Where was everybody...? It didn’t sound like they were right behind her, either. He looked at Friedman in surprise and the other sighed long-sufferingly.  


“Wait here, I’ll find them.”  


She left, her footfalls heavy on the stairs. Remus didn’t think his new dormmates would be greeted with a smile when she found them.  


Regardless, he claimed the fifth bed as it was a little way away the other four. That way his dormmates could talk to each other easily without Remus being a bother.  


He only began unpacking a few of his things to pass the time. He figured his clothes would be more organized staying in his trunk, so that’s where he left them. At least until he found the time to put them in his dresser drawers tomorrow. He took the quills and ink out of his trunk and placed them in the little drawer the beside table had. Just as he closed it, he heard giggles and approaching footsteps.  


A boy with sandy hair and a smattering of freckles walked in, rubbing the back of his head. He was a bit plump around his cheeks and stomach, but he looked friendly. “Hi, I’m Robert Cokes. Sorry I’m late, I’d gotten separated somehow and got confused on which dorm was mine.”  


Remus tried to show sympathy through his nod. He opened his mouth to introduce himself, but was stopped by the Prefect coming back in.  


“Oh, good, you’ve already met.” Friedman’s tone certainly didn’t sound happy, but Remus didn’t press the issue.  


She filed in the other three boys of the dorm. Two of the new arrivals tumbled in on top of each other, giggles barely contained.  


Remus recognized one of them as the boy, Black, who’d sauntered over to the table after the other Black was placed in Slytherin. He almost didn’t remember who the other boy was until the latter happened to look up. The glasses gave him away as the boy whose shoulder got squeezed by the boy now on top of him. The second boy also had messy black hair and a slightly long nose, but all three features came together to make a handsome face.  


Mr Saunter got up and pulled Messy Glasses to his feet as well. As they stood, the smell that reached Remus’s nose almost sent him reeling. Black reeked of butterbeer and the sweet scent nauseated the werewolf.  


“I’m Sirius...Black.” The raven-haired boy rolled his eyes. “Unfortunately. And this is James Potter. We’re brothers.”  


How that worked politically in the face of twenty-eight pureblood families, Remus didn’t know. He also didn’t dwell on it. It wasn’t any of his concern.  


As Black and Potter made their claims to beds that were next to each other, Remus noticed a slight hiccup in Black’s body language. A hesitation as Black waited for Potter to claim a bed first. One would assume the more boisterous and charismatic Black would be the leader, but Potter seemed to be the one actually in charge. Almost like a child still dependent on his parent to teach him manners. It was a subtle power dynamic; so much so that Remus almost missed it.  


A squeak of excitement tore Remus’s attention from the pair and back to the third new arrival.  


The boy was short, with blond hair and more pudginess than Cokes. “I’m Peter Pettigrew. Pleased to meet you!”  


Remus tilted his head at the boy. Who was so excited to meet new people they actually squeaked?  


Friedman rolled her eyes. “They’re charmed to meet you all, I’m sure. Try to stay out of trouble and do try to get some sleep. School starts tomorrow.” She started down the staircase.  


Black made a face that didn’t suit his handsome features. “I almost forgot we would have to do schoolwork here.”  


Friedman wasn’t so out of earshot that she couldn’t call, “Sleep,” up the stairs.  


Potter grinned. “She’s cute, isn’t she?”  


His friend just shrugged. “She’s a bit of a nag, though. Would make a terrible girlfriend to the bloke unfortunate enough to ask her out.”  


Potter raised a brow in response before the two of them smiled, and Remus had never seen expressions so mischievous. He already regretted the dorm situation.  


“Now that she’s gone, we should—”  


“Go to sleep,” Cokes had to raise his voice slightly to cut Potter off. “That’s what she wanted, and that’s what I’m going to do.” He fixed everyone else with a stern glare. “You would be wise to do the same.”  


Black looked so surprised at that Remus almost felt bad for him. “What?”  


“I’ll stay up with you guys,” Pettigrew offered. His brown eyes had a devious glint and Remus was terrified of the boys he would be rooming with. His dormmates, sans Cokes so far, might make it difficult to fly under the radar at Hogwarts.  


“Sorry, but I’m going to bed as well. I’m pretty tired.” It wasn’t until everyone looked over at him in response that Remus realized he’d even spoken at all.  


“I’m sorry, but who are you?” Black deadpanned.  


Remus blushed. “I’m...Remus Lupin. I—”  


Potter jogged over to Remus and effectively cut him off by clapping an arm around his shoulders. “Look, Sirius, at what you’ve done. You should apologize for embarrassing our roommate before you scare off all our potential friends. Mystery men or not.”  


Black scoffed. “Like you’re any better. Besides, we’d already met Pettigrew and Cokes in the common room. This is the bloke causing all the introductory confusion.” He bowed deeply, his nose almost touching the floor as his arms made exaggerated sweeping gestures beside him. “Forgive me, Mystery Man, for not knowing who you are.”  


Remus shrugged his way out of Potter’s hold and climbed into bed. “I don’t need an apology. It’s fine.” He reasoned that as long as he finished unpacking tomorrow after classes, turning in beforehand shouldn’t be a problem. Besides, his exhaustion caught up with him.  


“Look at what you’ve done.”  


The werewolf could hear Potter hiss the words to his raven friend, but he couldn’t gather enough energy to care.  


Cokes claimed a bed, turned out the light, and Remus heard the covers rustling as the boy got in.  


“Goodnight,” Cokes said pleasantly. As if he hadn’t chastised the entire dorm only moments ago. Cokes turned over and immediately fell asleep.  


Pettigrew shrugged. “Guess I’ll go to bed too, then. No use being a third wheel on your date tonight.”  


Remus didn’t have to see the smirk to hear it in Pettigrew’s voice.  


“Goodnight boys.” The blond boy also started snoring pretty quickly. Remus assumed they were all just running on fumes while Black and Potter were hyper from excitement at starting school.  


“Really?” the two said in unison. They didn’t get an answer.  


“Don’t talk tosh.” Black cleared his throat. “Well, then, we need to teach them our brilliant ways. Right, James?”  


“Right. Tomorrow, though. I guess.”  


“...Fine.”  


They climbed in the beds on the far side of the dorm where Remus’s own bed sat. Soon all five boys were asleep, dreaming of what school held for them.  


Four of them slept soundly. Only one tossed and turned.  


~?~?~?~?~?~?~?~?~  


For the next few days, Remus had a difficult time getting the small brown package to Dumbledore. He had consistently kept it in his robes, hoping he would meet the headmaster in the corridors. It quickly proved that wasn’t going to be the case.  


It was during the lunch break on the fifth day of an absent Dumbledore that Remus decided to take action. He would have to make an impromptu appearance in the man’s office. The small package had begun to weigh heavily in his pocket and he wanted to be rid of it. He figured the worst-case scenario was that Dumbledore was with someone currently and Remus needed to make an appointment.  


He briefly wondered if he should ask for Friedman’s help finding the office.  


_“…No one else present. We don’t want to make a spectacle of it.”_  


Better not, then.  


Thankfully, Remus’s instincts—he refused to admit it was most likely his werewolf instincts—helped him find his destination about one-quarter-way through lunch. He could’ve cried with relief when he finally turned a corner and saw the griffin statue down the corridor from where he stood.  


He ran, hoping this trip wouldn’t make him late to Transfigurations. Missing lunch he could live with, but McGonagall’s temper was something else entirely. When Remus reached the statue, he stopped short.  


He didn’t know the password.  


_Shite._  


“Erm... _semper idem_?” he asked. It was the first password that came to his mind and he could’ve kicked himself for thinking so stupidly. Not surprising, the gold lump in front of him didn’t budge. Remus tried all the passwords from the other houses he’d learned from observation and dumb luck. He reasoned that the combination of the four might be it. Or perhaps the headmaster’s statue might move based on the house that student belonged to, and since the hat couldn’t decide at first… He also reasoned that Dumbledore should’ve made himself accessible to everyone in the school. When that ultimately failed, however, Remus grew desperate.  


“First Order of Merlin?”  


The griffin didn’t move at all.  


“Chocolate frogs?”  


Not even a flutter. So, the man didn’t base it off his accomplishments. And as much as that relieved Remus to a degree, it was bloody annoying. But it did give him an idea.  


“Lemon drops?”  


A rumbling started deep in the stones beneath Remus’s feet. The statue twisted around and lifting upward, revealing stairs as it went. Remus fought the urge to gag. What a strange man. Was the eccentric old man really so in love with the citrus-flavored candies he based his password off them?  


He squashed down the thoughts and climbed the stairs, taking a breath before he knocked on the door. The wood felt heavy beneath his hand and it smelled of oak. It comforted Remus somewhat and he stood a bit straighter.  


“Come in,” inside, Dumbledore’s voice was pleasant and inviting.  


Remus released the breath and entered.  


Dumbledore sat behind his desk, reading a book Remus couldn’t see the title of. Various things whirred and chirped. It was like what one would hear in a joke shop. The sounds calmed Remus a bit further, but they weren’t what relieved him. The two were completely alone. So, he wouldn’t have to make a separate appointment after all. Dumbledore looked up to see the boy standing by the door still.  


“Mr Lupin.” He greeted the younger male as his smile grew wider. “How have you been since we last spoke?”  


“Fine.” Remus returned the smile. He stayed where he was, though.  


“And how has school been so far? Have you been getting to your classes on time?”  


“Yes, it’s been great, sir. Thank you,” Remus answered carefully. Dumbledore’s easy tone confused him. As if he hadn’t just spent the better part of his first week at school actively trying to track this man down. As if they’d talked every day.  


Remus told himself that just because he knew about his difficulties getting to Dumbledore, didn’t mean the headmaster knew. But something about the whole thing didn’t sit right with Remus and he couldn’t tell if it was just skittishness.  


“So, what brings you here during your lunch break? Surely you haven’t come by just to keep an old man company?” Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled brilliantly. Like he was remembering a funny joke he hadn’t told Remus yet.  


The eleven-year-old blushed. He took a stilted, shuffled step toward Dumbledore’s desk. “Sorry. Sir. I, I just—”  


“No, that’s not it. It’s the object in your pocket, isn’t it?” The older wizard waved his wand and Remus’s robe pocket began floating like his father’s did back in Ollivander’s shop. Dumbledore’s eyes glittered even brighter and he chuckled.  


Remus coughed. He tried to remember his train of thought.  


“My—my parents wanted me to give this to you.” Remus took the package out of his robes and thrust it toward the headmaster.  


Dumbledore laughed deep in his throat. “I don’t bite, Mr Lupin.”  


The causal comment startled Remus. Nonetheless, he walked forward before Dumbledore had the chance of becoming embarrassed by his word choice. He didn’t want to make Dumbledore uncomfortable. He set the package on the desk without a word. Then, he waited.  


Dumbledore picked up the gift and studied it for a moment. It fit perfectly in his palm and Remus allowed himself a satisfied smile at the simple yet neat wrapping his mother had done. Dumbledore took his time unwrapping it, taking care not to tear the brown paper. Under the wrapping was a small square box. Dumbledore lifted the lid to reveal lemon drops. He looked up and smiled at Remus, who he found fidgeting at the front of his desk.  


“Is something wrong, Mr Lupin?”  


Remus looked at everything but his restless hands and Dumbledore’s amused face.  


“I’m...worried....” He trailed off as his ears became an alarming shade of crimson. He stared at the floor and wished it would open and swallow him whole.  


“Speak up, child,” Dumbledore coaxed.  


“I’m worried I’ll be late to Transfigurations, sir.” Remus admitted, ashamed. He didn’t want Dumbledore to think he was ungrateful for all the older man had done.  


“No, I suppose no one would want to make Professor McGonagall angry.” Dumbledore laughed to himself and Remus felt his chest swell. “I’ll let her know you were here.”  


Both stared at each other for several seconds before Dumbledore spoke again.  


“Is that all, Mr Lupin?”  


Remus nodded, hated how often he flushed around other people. It was a symptom of weakness. The sandy-haired boy turned and headed for the door, willing himself not to run. He stopped when Dumbledore called after him.  


“Mr Lupin?”  


Remus only faced the other after forcing the color out of his cheeks. “Yes, sir?”  


“Thank you for the lemon drops.” He smiled as he took a yellow candy from the unwrapped box and popped it into his mouth.  


Remus rushed from the office and on to class before the blush could reach his ears again. And if his embarrassed blood weren’t pounding in his ears, he would’ve heard Dumbledore’s jovial laughter following him down the stairs and corridor.


	4. Sirius Black Thinks He's Funny

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first full moon draws closer as Remus deals with homework and pranks from dormmates.

Two weeks into the semester, Remus was definitely glad to be done with the package business. Hunting down Dumbledore was a task he never wanted to repeat if he didn’t have to.

Currently, he sat toward the front of the History of Magic classroom with his face in his hands. The ghostly Professor Binns stood almost in front of Remus, lecturing about how wizards and witches used to learn before school buildings were established. Something about nomads wandering the British Isles, looking for those with similar talents. Real interesting stuff. Or, at least, it might have been in anyone else’s competent hands. Because as callous as it sounded, the last thing Remus wanted to do right then was listen to Binns drone on about things only the ghost cared about. 

The boy blinked. 

The full moon was close. Within the next week, in fact. Fatigue, pallor, and worse, increased aggression or agitation. He didn’t need a moon chart to tell him that. He shifted to a more comfortable position and pointedly looked to the front of the room, trying to ignore the weird looks his classmates gave him. If he didn’t, he would probably end up punching one of them in the face. He’d done it to his dad once, after all. He’d been eight at the time. 

This full moon would fall on a weekend, so he could ask for his assignments early this time, but the next one would be a different story. Luckily, all his professor had already been informed the boy had a chronic illness. They’d just not been told he had lycanthropy. Obviously. 

But at least he didn’t need to constantly explain his absences away. 

Professor Binn’s reedy voice cut through Remus’s thoughts with the grace of a sledge hammer. It made Remus’s head hurt. “Speaking of, I met Merlin once and he told me…” 

Remus wished he could learn something in this class. He also wished one of his dormmates shared the class with him, to make the time more tolerable. Maybe Cokes. He was nice and usually took detailed notes, judging from his homework. Or Pettigrew. He told funny jokes on inappropriate subjects.... Probably not Potter or Black, though, as they didn’t seem to take their studies seriously enough. At least, they acted like it. They’d definitely be too distracting and disruptive for Remus’s liking. 

He grasped his quill, determined to write some ending notes on anything of note Binns had to say. His fingers trembled and struggled to hold onto it. The transfiguration would be bad this month. Remus could already tell. 

He looked up tiredly as Binns’s lecture was supposed to come to a close. Not surprisingly, the ghost kept talking. 

Remus considered going up there and punching and scratching through Binn’s chest. But that would be a waste of time. Other students realised as well that the professor wasn’t about to stop. They started standing one by one, some gathering their things and walking out the door as the lecture continued like a backing track. 

“And I tried to tell Merlin that boy prince was no good, I really did, but he didn’t listen. Something about deep connections to the boy.” Binns chuckled, but whether it was good-natured or humour-less Remus didn’t know. Nor did he really care, to be honest. “That was when everything....” 

Remus sat where he was for a moment longer, wondering if it were worth it to follow his classmates or wait for dismissal. 

Binns looked around in surprise at a nearly empty room. “...Oh, yes. Well, have a good day, class. Remember to study your book!” He turned and walked through the wall, muttering to himself. 

“When did the students come in? I really must pay more attention when I...” 

Remus slowly stood and put his things in his bag, sighing. His legs shook slightly beneath him and he dropped a couple of quills as he caught himself on his desk. He quickly glanced around and breathed a sigh of relief to see he was, in fact, alone in the classroom. He carefully bent down to pick up the quills and stuffed them into his bag. 

He needed to hurry to Defence Against the Dark Arts. 

~?~?~?~?~?~?~?~?~ 

Since Defence Against the Dark Arts was his last Monday class, Remus decided to stop by the lake in the few minutes before dinner. Studying in the sun might help him focus more when the moon was this close. Besides, Remus didn’t want to be in the Great Hall with everyone else when he was so irritable. He walked briskly down the corridor that would take him to the door he needed when someone suddenly blocked his path. They collided. 

It was Sirius Black. 

“Hey, Lupin, watch where you’re going!” 

Black must have meant it as a light-hearted tease more than a jab. Regardless, something in Remus’s expression made the other boy pause. 

“Sorry.” 

Remus didn’t mean the flat apology. And he certainly didn’t need Black using him for laughs so close to a transformation. He was tired and in pain. He just wanted to go outside and enjoy the sunlight while it lasted. He wasn’t sure why Black was even doing this teasing-you-but-not-maliciously thing in the first place. They were dormmates, sure, but in the two weeks they’d attended Hogwarts, their paths didn’t cross enough to justify the familiarity. 

“It’s fine,” Black said, trying to maintain a cool air now that Remus’s personality changed. He regarded the sandy-haired boy’s face and grimaced. “Bloody hell, it doesn’t have to be Monday every day, you know.” 

Remus shrugged to mask his enflamed anger at Black’s flippancy. He opened his mouth to say it was, in fact, Monday, but closed it again. He had nothing to say. Nothing he could pass off as nice, and he didn’t want to start a fight right then. Remus would have thought Black looked concerned if he wasn’t so sure he’d imagined it. 

“Anyroad, you should smile more. You don’t do it often.” 

Remus’s mouth fell slightly open, gobsmacked. He wasn’t used to people other than his parents taking much notice of him. “Sure.” 

“...” 

"...” 

Remus fiddled with his clothes. He was acutely aware that the silence was only truly awkward on his side. That didn’t stop it from being awkward, though, and it didn’t stop his teeth from grinding. 

He saw Potter watching around the corner at the end of the corridor. He wondered why the boy chose to act questionably rather than being beside Black where he usually was. Remus turned his attention back to the raven-haired boy, only to find him whispering and flicking his wand above Remus’s head. 

Remus cocked his head. 

“What are you doing?” No sooner had the question left his mouth than he flinched. Rainwater fell over his hair and robes, causing them to stick to his skin. Remus looked up and a raincloud hovered above his head. Right. 

Black barely held back his laughter. “Now your appearance matches your mood lately.” 

Potter laughed hard and crashed gracelessly to the floor. He held his sides, crying as he tried to catch his breath. 

Remus didn’t think it was that funny, to be honest. 

“Okay,” he said through gritted teeth. Color bloomed in his cheeks. Anger bubbled from his stomach to his chest. Remus ran off to find Friedman and thereby the hospital wing before he did anything rash to the other two boys. 

He ignored them calling after him. 

Remus eventually found Friedman by the clock tower, talking with a group of Gryffindor girls her age. Awkwardly he hung back, waiting for a lull in the conversation he could slip into to ask for the Prefect’s help. 

As one in the group, a girl with a large bulb for a nose, told Friedman about a Ravenclaw she thought might be flirting with her in Double Potions, another nudged Friedman in the ribs. 

“Isn’t that one of your first years?” The girl’s voice was high-pitched enough that it would give Remus a headache if he had to listen to it any more today. 

Friedman groaned loudly. Then she turned toward the eleven-year-old and saw the raincloud charmed to stay above him. She immediately made her way over. 

“What happened?” she asked. 

Remus shrugged. “I don’t know where the hospital wing is.” 

It was true, but Remus wanted to kick himself for sounding so pathetic. 

She frowned. “You want me to take care of it myself?” 

Remus shook his head, remembering what his parents told him. “I want to see Madame Pomfrey.” To his relief, Freidman nodded with no further questions. 

“I’ll take you there.” 

They didn’t talk on the way over there, but soon enough arrived at the hospital wing. 

The school nurse, a tall, lanky woman who seemed to have lost some of her beauty to frown lines, immediately waved her wand and the cloud disappeared. Remus couldn’t believe his stupidity. The solution was so simple. He tried to reason that as someone barely into his first semester, he couldn’t be expected to know the counter charms. He distinctly chose not to think about the fact that Black knew the jinx in the first place and the wand movement to go with it. 

“What happened?” Pomfrey echoed Friedman’s earlier query once the raincloud was gone. She looked over Remus’s to Friedman. 

The Prefect shrugged. “He didn’t say. He just wanted to know how to get to you.” 

They both turned their attention to Remus then and the eleven-year-old coughed. He didn’t want to do this right now. He wanted to be outside at his tree by the lake, thinking about literally anything else. 

“Sirius Black and James Potter...pranked me,” he told the nurse reluctantly. He didn’t want to make a big production out of the situation. 

“They _what_?” Friedman screeched. Remus wondered briefly if she were angry for his sake or if she were frustrated that they’d managed to prank a fellow student while she was probably on duty. Ultimately, though, he let the question pass. He didn’t really care about the reason, to be honest. 

“Black said I should smile more.” Remus tried to be as nonchalant as possible. 

Pomfrey tutted, “They need to be reported to their Head of House. You’re all Gryffindors, correct? That’s why you brought Miss Friedman with you?” 

Remus nodded. 

“That’s what I thought. Minerva will straighten them out.” 

“Please, ma’am,” the boy pleaded. “I’d rather not get them into trouble. They didn’t do it maliciously.” He hoped the last bit, at least. Really, Remus just didn’t want to deal with the stress of it all and he didn’t want to make enemies at school. 

“Well, are you alright now?” Pomfrey asked, suspicious. 

“Yes, ma’am.” 

Pomfrey pursed her lips and studied his face for a long moment. 

Remus smiled to reassure her, but it was still wavered slightly. At the same time, he tried to keep his hands as inconspicuous as possible as they twisted his robes. Regardless, the smile seemed to do its job because after what felt like an eternity, Promfrey’s face relaxed into a weary sigh. 

“Alright, but if those two continue, I’ll not keep turning a blind eye,” she warned. 

Remus nodded quickly to show he understood. 

“Alright, Miss Friedman.” Pomfrey straightened her apron with her hands. “If you would, please escort Mr Lupin back to his dorm.” 

Suddenly, Remus’s unease melted away into a calm he could only associate with the ever-nearing full moon. 

“Actually,” he said, lifting his chin. “I was on my way to the lake when I met with Black and Potter. If it wouldn’t be too much trouble, could you take me there instead?” 

Friedman looked at Pomfrey, silently asking what she thought. The nurse shrugged in response and the Prefect turned to Remus. 

She sighed, “Let’s go, then.” 

And they were off. 

~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~ 

Later that evening, Remus sat at the head of his bed as he did his homework. Pettigrew and Cokes were on their respective beds, with Cokes doing productive things by studying his reading materials, and Pettigrew lazily tracing simple, invisible patterns with his wand. Remus jumped slightly as a little brown toad hopped from his nightstand to the bed. 

For the past week, Pettigrew graciously offered to let Remus borrow his toad, Ribbit, to practice levitation. Pettigrew wouldn’t even listen to Remus’s original plan of using parchment paper instead, saying Remus needed something with more weight. Eventually, Ribbit had gotten over hiding from Remus’s presence as the werewolf roomed with the other four boys, but Ribbit’s breathing still quickened around him. 

Absentmindedly, Remus told Pettigrew about the prank earlier that day. 

“He said he just wanted to put a smile on my face. Wingardium Leviosa,” he said, flicking his wand. Ribbit stared at Remus challengingly, not moving. He sighed, running a hand through his sandy hair. “I don’t know. I’ve been in a sour mood lately.” 

Pettigrew hummed to himself. “I’ve been thinking about their pranks for a while now, myself.” He drew an imaginary square as he continued. “Something has to be done.” 

Almost as if they heard the conversation about them, Potter and Black noisily entered the dorm. They were complaining about something to do with Slytherins, but Remus couldn’t really make out what they were saying from the sudden blood rushing to his face when seeing Black’s face. Remus glared at nothing in particular on Pettigrew’s bed. Ribbit hopped closer to the foot of Remus’s bed. 

In Remus’s peripheral vision, Pettigrew turned his head toward the new arrivals. “What’s going on?” 

Black and Potter looked at the other three as if they weren’t aware their conversation could be heard by anyone else. Remus got the impression they were used to having conversations only with each other. Not even their families included in their discussions. 

Potter was the first to recover. “Some Slytherins were talking about blood purity,” he said. “I mean, I’m a pureblood too, but I don’t see a problem with muggleborns. Or muggles, for that matter.” He walked over to his bed and flopped onto it, the springs protesting loudly against the weight. 

Pettigrew nodded agreeably. “Same here. Pureblood with morals.” He laughed as he jumped off his own bed, crossing over to Remus’s and grabbing his toad. “If you don’t mind, and if you’re done with him today, it’s about Ribbit’s bedtime.” 

Remus nodded silently. 

Ribbit squirmed in the blond boy’s grasp, but Pettigrew just grinned and kissed the top of the upset toad’s head. “Everyone has to go to bed some time, Ribbit.” 

Remus stayed silent, putting his homework materials away. When no one filled the conversation gap, he looked up to see what had everyone distracted. Instead, he found everyone but Cokes looking at him. He realised they were waiting for his input. 

“Hm? Yeah, pureblood. Though, I don’t think I’m superior in any way.” He left it at that. His parents hadn’t really discussed things like politics around him. 

“Half-blood myself. Wizard dad, muggle mum,” Cokes said through gritted teeth. Remus could see building tension in Cokes’s shoulders. He wondered if the others could, or if the tense muscles were too subtle for others to see. 

Black snorted. “Muggles and muggleborns are people, same as us. They just don’t have magickal bloodlines.” 

Potter nodded curtly. 

“Why do people hate others for things they can’t control?” Once again, Remus was unaware he’d spoken at all until they all turned their attention to him. He shifted on the bed, bringing his knees closer. “Sorry, just...thinking aloud.” 

He didn’t understand any of what they were talking about. His parents hadn’t told him there was a power struggle between muggles and wizards. But he did know what would happen if him being a werewolf were discovered. And he knew how frightening and isolating it felt to be different. 

Potter scrunched up his nose. “No, I wonder the same thing, actually.” 

Pettigrew made a noise of agreement. 

Cokes, however, shifted heavily on his bed, flopping back down and roughly dropping his books on his bedside table. “Maybe we don’t need to discuss why—” 

“It’s because muggles persecuted us before.” 

It was Black who spoke. When everyone gave him their attention, he continued. “Well, it was back when that big muggle religion—Christianity—first appeared. Their holy book of requirements didn’t like witches and wizards.” His eyes looked down at the floor, but they seemed far from repentant. More like his mind was centuries away, remembering horrors he himself hadn’t personally experienced. 

“They hunted us. Attacked us. Killed us. We had to hide away and lie about who we were when we used to be respected. We were like rats.” When Black looked around at four shocked faces, he changed his tone; he coughed. “At least, that’s what my parents say. They’re daft, though.” He looked to Potter for reassurance and the latter shrugged. 

“I know they are, Sirius, you don’t have to tell me.” 

Remus might have only imagined it, but to the werewolf’s ears, Potter’s tone sounded little too bright, a little too forgiving. Meanwhile, Pettigrew seemed set on keeping up the discussion with his thoughts on the matter. Potter and Black were only too eager to continue gossiping about wizards and witches with superiority complexes. 

Cokes turned to lie on his side, facing the wall. He said goodnight, but wasn’t heard over Pettigrew and Potter’s chortles to some mocking tone Black adopted to poorly imitate what Remus assumed was a Slytherin student. 

For his part, Remus wondered what that was all about with Black’s small speech. Had Black ever believed what his parents told him about muggles? And did Potter’s reaction mean Black hadn’t truly stopped, or that Potter was worried that was the case? As a person with offensive blood running in his own veins, Remus couldn’t help the thought that someone he knew potentially thinking like that was...unsettling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry this is so late! I'm terrible to you guys, I know. I hope this chapter makes it up to you.
> 
> Also, the boys' views on Slytherins and Christianity and the war are not necessarily my views. But I did think if one of them would know the most about the "blood traitor" side of it, it would be James. Same with Sirius knowing the most about the purity arguments and history of frustrations purebloods have with muggles, and same with Remus knowing so little about in general because of his parents. I do love Slytherins and I do think these boys don't know enough about the political mess that must have gone on for centuries before they even stepped inside Hogwarts. At least, not enough to have so many stauch positions as to the natures of purebloods or muggles.
> 
> I also wanted Cokes to be the only one with actual, true contact with non-magical people on a day-to-day basis.
> 
> Let me know what you guys think!


	5. The First Transformation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remus helps Pettigrew get back at Potter and Black, and the full moon finally arrives.

“This’s not the right solution.”

Cokes informed Remus and Pettigrew of this from a seated position on his bed. He had his Astronomy book opened across his lap, but the three boys knew Cokes was paying more attention to the boys at the door than the words on the pages. And who could blame him when history was about to be made—in Pettigrew’s words, of course? Remus was waiting with the short blond boy for Black and Potter to return to the dorm after lunch. 

Pettigrew rolled his eyes. “And how do you suggest we react?” 

Cokes took great care to place the book on his bedside table and to unfold his legs and stretch before responding. “You shouldn’t,” he said casually. “Ignore them. It’ll drive them mad.” 

Pettigrew pursed his lips and glanced sharply at Cokes. “Yeah, that’s real fun.” He shook his head, meeting Remus’s eyes. “Don’t listen to this bloke, Remus. He’s a real downer, that one.” 

“You two really should be preparing for your next class.” Cokes tried to continue the conversation as casually as his previous tactic, but Remus could hear the annoyance seeping through. “Transfigurations, is it? It’s in ten minutes, after all.” 

Remus would have had the decency to be chastised by this, but Pettigrew’s snarky response didn’t allow for the opportunity. “Seriously, Cokes, please. If you don’t stop being so much fun, I’ll die from overexposure. And I simply can’t die on a Friday afternoon. It’ll kill my weekend.” 

Remus bit his cheek to hold down a small grin. He didn’t like the two fighting, and he certainly didn’t want to make any enemies at school, but he couldn’t help it that he found the comment funny. And he did think that Cokes didn’t smile nearly often enough for it to be healthy. He squashed down the memory of Black saying something similar to him. It was a different situation, after all. Cokes wasn’t a monster. Cokes shifted to sit on his heels, clearly agitated now. 

“How do you know they’re even coming back to the dorm for break?” 

“Simple,” Pettigrew said with a smile. “Observation. One does not get revenge for leg-knock or eyebrow-erasing or cloud jinxes by not first carefully noting the targets’ schedules. They always come back after lunch ends on Thursdays and Fridays because they leave their Transfigurations books here.” 

A flurry of emotions passed through Cokes’s eyes at that. He opened his mouth, closed it again, and shook his head slightly before he ended up half-shrugging and saying nothing. He shimmied backward to sit back against the headboard and grabbed his Astronomy book again. And even though he buried his nose inside the pages, Remus knew the boy still devoted most of his attention to Remus and Pettigrew’s actions: Cokes's eyes weren't moving. 

A couple of minutes later, Remus was tired of waiting for the pranksters to arrive. Sitting on his haunches was making his already-weak legs cramp badly. He was just about to tell Pettigrew that he’d join him in revenge another time when Potter and Black came crashing through the dorm door. The charm instantly triggered and both boys started rapidly growing hair from their heads. 

“What the bloody hell is going on?” Black yelped. He scrambled to pick up the hair from off the floor. His hands weren’t as fast at gathering it as the charm was at growing it, though. 

“Sirius!” 

Potter started over to help his mate, but tripped over his own lengthening hair and crashed to the floor. Again, Remus was reminded of the day Black pulled that prank with the rain cloud. He bit the inside of his cheek again, but couldn’t hide the smirk on his face. Nor did he really want to, to be honest. 

Pettigrew fell over, like Potter, but onto his back, wheezing from laughing so hard. 

Cokes hopped off his bed and started gathering materials for his next class. 

Black’s head whipped to look at Pettigrew and only half of his hair could follow. “What did you do, Pettigrew?” 

The shorter boy could barely get the words out through his breathlessness. “You...you guys…keep pranking the…three of...of us. We…we…had! H-had to…get…our revenge!” 

Potter’s face crumpled in confusion. “Revenge?” He was still on the floor and his hair completely covered his glasses and most of his face. At least it stopped growing. Pettigrew stared at him for a moment, blinking, then burst into new giggles. 

Remus found himself beginning to enjoy the company of the other four boys, despite himself. Cokes, however, looked irritated with them all as he quickly left. But Remus could’ve sworn he saw the ghost of a smirk on Cokes’s face. 

Pettigrew’s own face grew red with the effort of trying to breathe around his laughter. “Remus…hel-helped.” 

Potter and Black finally managed to pick themselves up and find their wizard’s hats. Their hair now reached to around three feet onto the floor. Gathering it as best as they could, they jammed the hats onto their heads. Satisfied for the moment with their appearances, they started off. 

“We can’t be seen like this,” Potter explained over his shoulder. “We’re going to see Madame Pomfrey.” He pushed his way past Black, eager to fix his appearance. 

“We’ll explain to McGonagall later,” Black assured the other two. And if he hadn’t pranked Remus while the latter was agitated by a full moon, Remus might have cared that they were going to be late to class. Before Black and Potter completely disappeared down the stairs, though, they looked back at Remus and Pettigrew, impressed. Pettigrew did his best to compose himself as he picked himself up off the floor, but a few chuckles still escaped his lips. He pulled on Remus’s shoulder. 

“Come on, Remus, we’ll be late!” He still crowed with laughter. The two triumphant boys grabbed their books and ran off before McGonagall could get angry at them for tardiness. But despite their slight irresponsible time management after lunch, they managed to make it to the classroom just before the lecture started. 

McGonagall’s lips were a stern line across her face, but luckily, she only told them to find their seats quickly. 

Remus found it hard to completely focus on the Transfigurations lesson, however. As McGonagall talked, his thoughts kept turning to the successful prank just minutes before. At this rate, Remus would have to repeat the year, but oddly, he didn’t care. He still couldn’t stop smiling. If this was what it felt like to have friends, it was enough. 

Remus’s stomach flipped traitorously. He tried to put the promise he’d made to himself at the forefront of his mind. It was hard, though, after the smiles and laughs between the boys today. So, he didn’t want to push his dormmates away just yet. 

Beside him, Pettigrew opened his mouth in a silent groan. “Do I really need to take all these notes?” he asked under his breath. 

Remus smirked for the second time that day. “Absolutely,” he was equally quiet. “Because I refuse to let someone borrow mine later on when he was perfectly capable of writing his own.” As he responded, he kept his eyes on his parchment and continued writing. He would compare notes with Pettigrew later and hope for the best in the face of his distracting thoughts. In his peripheral vision, Pettigrew glared at him. Remus realized with a rush that it was a teasing glare. 

The boy next to him continued to glower, but after a few seconds, it melted into his own half-smile and Pettigrew inconspicuously stuck his tongue out at the sandy-haired boy. Unlike how Remus usually felt right before a full moon, his stomach turned pleasantly this time. 

He really did want to have mates—to belong. He just didn’t want to be alone again if the secret came out. He didn’t want to be abandoned. Or worse. 

Remus resolved himself to a new promise. He wouldn’t push them away, but he wouldn’t initiate anything either. He wouldn’t even know how to go about it, even if he wanted to. But if they intended on being his friends, one thing had to remain the same. 

They could never know about his lycanthropy. 

~?~?~?~?~?~?~?~?~ 

That night, Cokes was out in the Gryffindor common room, studying with friends he’d made in the library some weeks ago. 

The other four boys were all in the dorm, though. Potter lounged on his bed, lying on his back with his knees bent as he attempted for the third time to give his Transfigurations essay a strong start. He was convinced this would be the way back into McGonagall’s good graces. Black sat at the foot of Potter’s bed, leaning back on his mate’s legs and playing with a piece of string he’d found, as he’d already finished his homework. Pettigrew was sitting criss-cross on the floor, snacking on sweets he’d bought and hoarded from the train trolley since he had also completed his studies. And Remus sat at the foot of his own bed with his legs draped over the edge. 

It was a comfortable silence. Well, except for Black’s impatience that Potter finish his essay, so they could run around the school, causing general mischief. But both did that if they finished before the other. It was to be expected by now. 

Remus tried to finish at least part of his Charms homework before he left. It had to be his worst subject. Honestly. He just didn’t seem to know the proper wrist movements to each spell sometimes. And even when he did, his limbs apparently didn’t want to listen to his brain. His fingers trembled stronger than they had before in the past couple of days and he ended up throwing his quills to the floor. 

“Hey!” 

Remus looked up to see Pettigrew, Potter, and Black staring at him. 

It was Pettigrew who had called to him and he continued. “Are you okay?” 

Remus nodded, smiling weakly at the other three. They weren’t convinced. And, honestly? Remus wasn’t convinced by his own answer. 

“Are you sure?” Potter said, “You’ve not been looking well the past few days. You’ve been pale and miserable-looking.” 

“That’s why we wanted to make you laugh earlier this week,” Black agreed. He chuckled good-naturedly. “Though, I suppose you and Pettigrew decided to get even instead.” 

Remus almost smiled but stood suddenly as a wave of pain hit him that was so great, it was nauseating. He was out of time for a relaxing evening. He’d foolishly let the comfortable atmosphere with these blokes cloud his judgement. It was time to meet Pomfrey at the hospital wing before he hurt someone. He turned to Pettigrew. 

“I think, actually, that I’ll go to the hospital wing. Maybe seeing Madame Pomfrey will be a good thing.” 

“Do you want someone to walk with you there?” Black asked, sitting up quickly. Remus had to wonder if the raven was actually worried about the other boy, or if he just wanted to get out of the dorm while waiting for Potter to finish his studies. 

“No!” he yelled before he could stop himself. He tried smiling in appeasement at their shocked faces. “No, I’m fine. I can make it there on my own.” 

He didn’t wait for anyone to answer him before he left. 

It wasn’t long before Pomfrey was escorting him to the Forbidden Forest. Pomfrey fidgeted as they crossed the lawn toward the trees. Her hand motions were setting Remus more on edge than he would be otherwise, but he didn’t say anything to her. At least she was safe at the moment as the moon hid behind heavy cloud cover. 

“I just don’t like this,” Pomfrey said suddenly. Remus glanced at her in surprise, but he didn’t break his pace. “I understand that Albus considers this the best possible solution, as werewolves don’t attack other animals after transforming. Perhaps it is. But I don’t like the idea of leaving a student alone to run around with only the trees to keep him company.” 

Remus stayed silent. He wasn’t sure what to say, really. 

They arrived at a point in the forest pre-deemed to be a safe distance from Hogwarts castle. Pomfrey turned, fixing the boy with a stern expression. 

“You’re to come straight to the hospital wing after coming back to yourself. Do you understand?” 

Remus nodded, “Of course.” 

She looked at him with such concern then that he felt guilty for something she likely didn’t even blame him for. But burdening her nerves with thinking about him in this state.... He just hated to be a bother. 

“Good luck, Mr Lupin.” 

And then she was gone. 

Remus sat for a while in the grass with his legs folded under him, waiting for the full moon to strike. The moonlight shone through the leaves, the light dappled softly on the ground. It would be a beautiful sight if not for his condition. The werewolf was lucky enough to be in a shadowed spot for now. He lightly pulled at the blades. Not hard enough to pull them out, though. That would be cruel. 

Foolishly, his legs went forward to change his sitting position. His left foot hit a patch of moonlight. His fingers fumbled again—in the grass this time, instead of around a quill—as a jolt of pain shot up his spine. 

This time it stayed. 

He screamed, lurching forward as though to vomit. Claws began working their way out of his fingertips, pushing the human nails up and to the sides. The same happened with his feet and the inside of his mouth with his teeth. His spine started shifting and the bones in his body felt like they were breaking as they also began rearranging themselves. 

The next scream was more of a half-howl, half-roar. If the staff and students heard the noise from their cozy little beds, let them. Remus couldn’t care less. The wolf in his mind broke free of its cage. Remus looked up and caught sight of the full moon laughing at him through the tops of the trees. 

Everything went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave your thoughts about the story so far. I love hearing feedback!

**Author's Note:**

> I'd read a post last year that my friend shared on Facebook. The post simply said HP fans don't want an eighth segment of Harry's story, they want a seven-part series of the Marauder's Era. After making some jokes on my friend's thread, my twin said I should write the story. I decided to take him up on that, so here it is.
> 
> I chose to do this from Remus's point of view for a couple of reasons. One, he's the Marauder we know the most about personally (Sirius doesn't count, he's crazy by the time we meet him, lol). Also, the werewolves interest me, dude! They're great!
> 
> It's still unfinished, but I do plan on going through all seven years of the boys' lives and continuing with a sequel about the following two decades. If you guys have any ideas or headcanons and you don't mind sharing them with me, I'll try to fit them into the series as much as the timeline I imagined will allow. It can be about the boys' family lives or school lives, people they interact with, or for the sequel. I want this to be for the other fans as much as for me.
> 
> I'm trying to make this story my own while maintaining the integrity of Rowling's world (which is harder than some can imagine, lol). Hopefully you guys enjoy the ride with me!


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